"You noticed the gulf where the birds flew level with the lawn; across it was the forest rising to bare and bony ridges, and behind them and above them the Himalayas snows where the ice wind blew. Sometimes they were like turrets of icing sugar, pretty and harmless; on some days they seemed as if they might come crashing down the hill. On others they were hidden behind drifts of cloud and a spray floated from one to the other; but however they looked, there was always the wind to remind you of what they were. The wind was always the same."